


Not Necessarily Innocent

by Blanca_Angelic_Loveless



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanca_Angelic_Loveless/pseuds/Blanca_Angelic_Loveless
Summary: Ed discovered something unsettling, but Oswald's there for him the best he can be.





	Not Necessarily Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> This was a practice story, I was trying to write something suspenseful, and maybe unsettling, as well as see how long I could keep two character talking about something without really adressing it for the reader, or really making it super obvious for the reader. 
> 
> Please tell me how I did!! Tell me if you figures out what's in the folder, I'd love to see what impression I gave!!!

Oswald still loves Ed, very deeply in fact. Even after everything the other man has done to him, and no matter how well he might convince people otherwise, there will always be something, Oswald thinks, that will draw him to wonder and worry about the other when Edward's not around. And he's never around anymore, so of course Oswald is always wondering and worrying. But wondering and worrying about Edward’s well being, and sitting at his office desk at nearly 1:30 am watching Edward, who had arrived of his own free will nearly an hour prior, pacing and ramble incoherently, clearly delusional and on the verge of another psychosis… that creates a whole mess the likes of which Oswald is, in all honestly, not prepared to handle.

He's angry that Ed thinks he can muscle his way into Oswald club anytime he likes, and angry at himself for sending away the security, and for letting Ed lock the door- Ed’s panicked, worried eyes too much for Oswald to deny. Oswald has a gun in his hand under the desk, he's ready if Edward makes a move to attack. Except Edward’s doesn't make a move, at least not toward him. He paces the length of the room endlessly, waving the folders he's brought as apparent proof of his delusion, but has yet to share with Oswald, and he doesn't seem to want to do anything else. He's worried for Ed, but the things he's saying are at least still coherent, if not at all plausible, and for one split second he wishes he could simply call Arkham and have them come collect the problem before it gets out of hand like it always does. Except that wouldn't do any good for Ed, and Oswald feel a heavy guilty settle in his stomach that won't be leaving anytime soon at the thought that he would wish that Hell Hole upon anyone.

Of course that Hell Hole, or this Hell Hole, it wouldn't make any difference to Ed at the moment.

“Oswald are you listening to me at all!?” Edwards voice has pitched up in his panic, and he's finally stopped pacing, but now he's bounce up-down up-down on the balls of his feet, clutching the mysterious folder tight. He's looking at Oswald like he's lost in a pitch black sea and Oswald is his compass.

How could Oswald ever think he could love this man the way he deserves, take care of him in the ways he needed, when it really, truly mattered? How does he explain that he can't guide Edward to whatever shores he's seeking, compass or no, if they've no idea which way the land is?

“I'm thinking.” Oswald says, biding himself more time. Delaying the inevitable. He should call Lee, she's so much better suited to handle this. But Ed came to him. Not Lesie, not Barbara, not Gordon or Fox, or anyone else. In spite of everything he's done to the love of his life, Edward has come to him for help.

So… first step? Edward was too worked up. Oswald needs to calm him down, and he needs to know what's set this off.

He holds out one hand. “Give me the file and sit down.” He says. 

Edward rushed forward, shoving the folder at Oswald and flinging himself into the chair opposite Oswald. Ed stares at him still, and one leg keeps bouncing erratically. He's holding tight to the armrests, so much so that his knuckles are white, and Oswald as to pry his eyes way fast.

He looks down at the front of the folder and is greeted with the face of an owl staring right back up at him, and the words [TOP SECRET] For The Courts Eyes Only written underneath. Of course it's the damned Court of Owls again, and of course Edward would find it.

As Oswald reads, his heart begins to pound. And awful sort of feeling seems to crawl its way across his back, up his neck, around his throat as he reads and reads, and he can't stop reading because this can't be right, but it's all there, and aside from the improbability, the impossibility, the absurdity of it- it, it actually kind of makes since. He feels numb and sort of detached from himself by the time he finishes. Like his soul is trying to leave his body, but that's just not possible, that's, that's. It's impossible.

Between one blink and the next Oswald find himself staring into the wastebasket he keeps under his desk, he stomach lurching. Ed’s come around the desk by the time he's finishes heaving up anything his stomach can find to expel, and is rubbing cautious circles across Oswald's back with his knuckles, the way he knows Ed knows he likes. Like his mother used to do- oh God his mother. Was it even her- No! No!

“No! It's not true!” Oswald shouts pulling himself away from Ed, putting a few feet of distance between them, like it can make the nightmare go away.

“I don't want it to be true either Oswald!” Ed shouts, still just as panicked as before. “I- I just-”

“It's not true Edward, you're just crazy! And this is just another ridiculous scheme you've come up with to drag me down with-”

“Then prove it! Prove it! Prove it!” Edward cuts him of with his childish demand. Reaching up blindly, he feels for the folder, abandoned above them, pulls it fast so that the picture and papers go flying, spilling into a mess between them on the floor. “You do it!You prove it's not real because I can't! I can't can't I cant I tried I can't-”

Suddenly Ed’s knocking himself in the head with every repeated I can't I can't I can’t, and every other thought leaves Oswald head except, what do I do about that?

“Ed, you need to stop-” he reaches forward, crawling across the forgotten papers, taking hold of Ed’s wrist and holding it away from his head as best he can, and then does the same with the other when he tries again to hit himself with that one. He's never had to stop someone hurting themself before, but he's had to restrain people, even people bigger than him, and he thinks he can do it with Ed if he has to. He doesn't want to have to though. 

Ed keeps trying to pull his wrists out of Oswald’s grasp, but he never pulls quite hard enough to succeed, and they're stuck that way for a while- Oswald on his knees and bent forwards at an awful angle, and Edward rocking now, slowly trying to curl in on himself. Even as the strain on Oswald’s bad legs begins to reach an unbearable level, to crawl up his spine and hurt everywhere else, Oswald refuses to give in for fear that movement will break the steady calm they're reaching. 

After several tense moments, Edward’s chanting becomes a whisper, then a mumble, and then nothing. 

“Are you okay now?” Oswald asks as softly as he dare, when the rocking and the other movements have stopped, when Ed is finally breath steady. Slowly, so that he can grab them again if need be, Oswald let's go if Ed’s wrists, and sits back down. He's leg flares in pain at the movement, its cruel retaliation for having forced it to endure such strain.

“Ed?” He waits until he gets soft hum in reply. He takes a deep breath, “Ed, I don't know what you expect me to do about this. The likelihood of this, it's infinitesimally dismal, and I want to think your crazy for believing it.”

“But I'm not!”

He looks so betrayed.

“But you do have a history of psychosis Ed, and this, this is delusional-”

Oswald hates that look.

“Well then why did the court have it!? If it is crazy why would they have this!? What's the point!”

Oswald works his jaw, trying to think of the proper thing to say. “To fuck with us,” he says with a shrug. “I don't know Ed, why do you believe it, then- and answer carefully because if you don't sound coherent, I am going to call a doctor.”

“Isabella.”

“What about her?” Oswald tried to keep the contempt from his voice.

“She was too perfect. Too- too, exactly what I wanted. She looked just like Kristen, it's so obvious. It's so obvious. And-and when was the last time you did anything that, that didn't involve barbara, me, Selina, Jim. And I mean, the closest we can ever truly get to disproving something like this is by never managing to prove it, but it's not the same. A man found to be Not Guilty in a court of law may not necessarily be innocent, he could still be guilty…”

He breath is getting shallows and he's looks at Oswald like he's lost again.

“Well I don't know how to put the universe on trial Ed,” Oswald sighed, beginning to gather the scarred papers. He needed to read over them again. "But I suppose I can try."


End file.
